Burning Butterflies
by HappilyEverNevers
Summary: When Harry has changed, nearly abandoning his friends, who makes him realise his fate. Locked in the library for a night with whom of all people? Prolouge, and two part fiction.
1. Not so diffrent

_Burning Butterflies  
  
Prologue_  
  
I guess you can say that Harry Potter is like every other boy on earth. His best friend has hair to inspire an arsonist; he's wanted dead and is showing the potential of being an extremely powerful wizard, so he is told.  
All right, so I'm lying. Maybe he's not to average.  
Harry Potter really does have all those things and more! You can purchase them for seventeen Galleons and four Sickles! Please send your owls to-"  
  
"_Ahem_."  
  
Not funny. Sorry Harry.  
  
You see him walking down the hall, scar, glasses, messy raven hair and all. He walks neither like a king nor a pauper, yet a pauper disgraced by his fate pushed upon him. You stare out of habit, may it be of awe or of adoration. Usually, however, when Slytherins stare their motive is revulsion.  
  
He's nothing like you. Everyone knows that. He is your opposite; he is the Yin to your Yang.  
  
You are polished, primped, and posh. Every inch of you is played by the rules, your own family rules. You are bred like a show dog to be sly, cunning, sarcastic and just flat out sinister. You have even practiced your smirk and sneer in the mirror, frequently.  
  
You know they think you are an evil little rich prat, don't they, Malfoy? They think you are an annoying little ferret. You know they think you are heartless as not just a Slytherin, but as a malevolent Malfoy.  
Oh, how they are wrong.  
  
The Slytherin common room was an icy cold no matter which season stumbled upon the Hogwarts grounds. There were no windows to let in the sun, only chiseled out indents covered with stained glass, containing candles behind them. The fire that burned steadily in the grate helped none at all. Stiff, emerald colored armchairs encircled the fireplace, unoccupied, casting long eerie shadows across the floor.  
  
Broken quills, empty inkpots and furrowed scraps of parchment littered tables awaiting the skittish house elves. Black floor pillows and black leather sofas were placed almost haphazardly. Recently extinguished torches that sent elegant signals into the air were fixed to the ornate green silver walls. The room bestowed a dangerously still message forewarning evildoers and cunning ideas to wreak havoc.  
  
Nevertheless, Draco Malfoy fancied it that way.  
  
To Draco it was more welcoming then Malfoy Manor and gratefully less…cheerful then the rest of Hogwarts. He spent little time for leisure sake, that wasn't on a broomstick, in the common room.  
  
He would gracefully sprawl about one in particular black leather couch in the back of the room as agile as a cat, for Draco Malfoy did everything with grace. He had "reserved" a specific sofa for his entire seven-year stay at Hogwarts…just because he had the power. He was oblivious to the fact, and would be completely enraged, that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had clumsily sat upon it in their second year with him, incognito as his thickheaded minions for about an hour.  
  
There are many things Draco fancied but wasn't aware that Gryfindors had "tainted." Ironically, there were things that Gryfindors were keen on that Slytherins were too. If they knew how much they had in common, their loves and loathes, the natural balance of Hogwarts could shatter like a glass cage and unleashing its captive of an unknown motive. They would create the divine chaos of Hogwarts.  
  
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were considered the "Dream Team," "The Heroes," and "The Golden Trio" of Hogwarts. They saved the school, or more often the wizarding world, at least once a year. They were admired and respected throughout the school, with the exception of the majority of Slytherin House of course.  
  
Harry was the hero. He was brave, daring, slightly stubborn, and kind. Hermione was the heroine; intelligent, strong minded, and remarkably clever. Both became attractive, as they grew older and wiser as young men and women do. They fit very closely in the mold of what a hero and heroine should be, except for the part that they weren't madly in love with each other.  
  
Then there was Ron. If I was to say Ron was the loyal sidekick that was deprived of the spotlight because of the hero and heroine, I would be insincere to the greatest extent. Ron was the secret love interest of Hermione. He was sarcastic, rude, funny, sweet and humble. Not to mention his friends envied him. Harry wanted to have a family like his, or preferably be a part of it. Hermione envied his chess skills, more or less.  
  
Nothing had ever permanently harmed their friendship, and it looked as if nothing will. Of course, no one had dared expected a Slytherin to mix with a Gryfindor in a more than almost civil fashion.  
  
No one expected it would be Draco Malfoy that shattered the balance. 


	2. Not so alone

xXPart 1Xx

Nothing could ever be the same for Harry Potter. The norm, as normal as it ever could be for a famous young wizard, was dead. His Godfather, his closest thing to a parent, his lifeline, was gone. Sirius Black was gone. The horrific truth lingered like smoke from an extinguished candle throughout Harry's life; faintly dancing, taunting him. Sixteen years old, he had past the unfathomable point of no return. He lingered in the darkness in the back of his mind; fell deeply into a shadow world of insecurity. Harry Potter now saw the world in a new light: without light.  
  
This is your Harry, Draco, You thought to yourself.  
  
This is how you've always wanted him.  
  
He is sadistic, disturbed and tormented. He has lost his "Golden Boy" mask.  
  
You have waited for this day, Draco. Now his costume is lost, time to give up your "daddy's little boy" act. Time for "mommy's little monster." At last, your time has come.  
  
I am your nightmare, Potter.

Draco was no longer the Draco Malfoy the students and faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have come to know. 

He, too, fell out if his false personality. Inside, Draco was malicious and dark, twisted and earsplitting. He played the big bad bully in the play of life.

I am not whom you think I am, Potter. I have watched you more closely than you would like. You are more like me than you would ever hope.  
  
Time to take center stage.  
  
Enter Harry Potter, stage left.  
  
"Reality of Nightmares Volume 6" "They Never Were" "How to Find Who You Are (Check Under Your Bed)" "Monsters Under the Bed, The Wizard's Guide to Discovery of Self" "Damnit! Nothing again!" Harry cursed. The library had again failed to reveal the answer. Days upon days Harry Potter had retired to the library, searching through book upon book. He never knew what he was looking for; something to feed his longing. Dusty volume upon volume filled the room, holding words and ideas from him.  
  
Light from the blood red setting sun rammed itself through the stain glass windows of the room, in his face. It caught the dust in the air with its claws, exposing each one. The sun was a spotlight; he was the nervous victim standing alone. Harry sat against the offending window. The sun ran her fingers through his shaggy dark hair. He had let it become more wild and untamed as ever. His clothes, underneath his Gryfindor robes, were darker. Harry had spent a little more time in Seamus's wardrobe rummaging through old boxes of party clothes. He wore smudged black eyeliner, a black tank covered with a dark hooded sweatshirt and tattered baggy bonded jeans. No one ever saw the black leather boots; they were veiled with his denims.  
Harry had never cared much for anyone's opinion, yet now he seemed to turn his back on the world. He lived upon Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and the dark and quirky Luna. He would only speak around them, quietly, with a few rare words. He let his thoughts roam wherever it pleased. Even so, they seemed to have a mind of their own.

The sun was swallowed up by the horizon, leaving an amethyst twilight and a lonely Harry Potter behind her. Harry stood up and returned the books around him to their proper locations with a flick of his wand hastily. Time seemed to have sped up rapidly, fleeting from his fingers; he treasured his moments alone. He made his way to the library doors weaving between bookshelves and strewn chairs. Filch had spoken sternly in September with the headmaster about students sneaking off to the library for snogging reasons after curfew. Unfortunately for those students at fault, a new spell was cast upon the library doors to close exactly at sunset and lock themselves until the morning.

This, of course, completely slipped Harry's wandering mind. With a swift, rapid motion the doors swung shut and locked with a heart-sinking click. Behind him, footsteps echoed closer. Harry cursed as he swung himself around to face the shadow. 

"Lumos!"

"God, bloody, damnit!"

The shadow and Harry cursed in unison, for the shadow was no longer a shadow, and neither was Harry to the other.

The shadow had become Draco Malfoy.

xXFlames and Praise welcomedXx


	3. Unedited Teaser

So he has found me, in the darkest of places that I wander. No, the second darkest he could reach me; no one could ever reach me here in the sanctuary of my mind. But he, Draco Everen Malfoy, has cornered me in one of my best hiding spots. The first thought that runs through my head is that he knows. I knew that someone would discover me sooner than never. Yet he doesn't know....He doesn't know my secret.  
  
He can't know that I, Harry James Potter, have discovered my sexuality in my times of reflections. In all the time I have spent silent, I have been listening. All the time my friends think I was blind to the world, I am watching. I have seen everyone, male and female, as they live. I have watched their habits, their quirks of each gender and analysed my reactions to each. I know whom I find attractive.  
  
I love the curves of a human body. I crave to touch a naked hip with my own. I long to have someone rest their head on my shoulder. I am nearly brought to fainting when I watch Hermione and Ron kiss. How she touches him so gentlely and gracefully and how he is so rough and clumsy. I love them both, and am happy for them. Watching them has helped me so greatly.  
  
Draco doesn't know my conclusion, he couldn't know my conclusion. Yes, I am safe inside my head; Safe where no one can get me.  
  
Right?  
  
Harry, my pet, my time has now come. The clock has ticked it's last second and the last grain of sand has fallen. Now, my sweet, you are mine. I have cornered my prey. Harry, darling, I know. I know how much we have in common, and its the last thing you want. You dont want me to know, but I do. You pray, my sweet, that I am clueless, but I know. I am the last person who you think could, would, or should know, but I do. Harry you would hate me for it.  
  
Am I right?  
  
"Harry, do you mind if I refrain from childish referance to surnames?" Draco drawled, take a couple steps toward Harry. Harry retreated slowly, shuffleing a foot backwards then the next, carefully intune with Draco's progressing. 


End file.
